Enigma Page #3

Ovaltine. Thank you.|I don't think my system could take it.

What a charming house.

And hunting prints.|Do you hunt?

Where are you based?|Here?

Bliss.

What can I do for you,|Mr, um, Wigram?

There's something|I've been wondering about.

You're the man|who broke the U-boat code.

Hmm?|Champagne all around.

Happy days are here again,|all right?

Then you fell out of your pram.

So what happened?

It was personal.

I can keep a secret.

Wonderful thing about war--

Peacetime is about keeping|the people in their place.

But then war breaks out,|and life was never so glorious.

The toiling masses|turn into heroes...

and their little women start dropping|their drawers like debutantes.

- Well, if that's all you--|- And best of all, the swots.

Dragged out in a cloud of dandruff|from some dim backwater...

and invited to the ball.

At Bletchley, you're as glamorous|as fiighter pilots.

Girls you couldn't even hope to meet|go weak at the knees...

at the thought of the size|of your brain, isn't that right?

If talking through your arse|is what they teach you in spy school--

I'm talking about you|and a girl called Claire Romilly.

We're rather worried about her.

Offiicially been missing for 14 hours,|give or take. When in fact,|it's more like 48 hours.

She hasn't been seen|since she went off-duty on Thursday.

Rather a good friend|of yours, I gather.

I-I haven't seen her since befo--|since before I--

Quite.|Heard from her?

- No.|- Apart from the postcard.

Let's try to remember everything.

It saves misunderstandings.

Did you go to the cottage tonight?|Don't think about it.

- Yes.|- Yes.

Yes.

Mind if I sit down?

I've been away for a month.|I wanted to look her up.

You ever discuss|your work with her?

- Of course not.|- Um, how about a gun?

- Any guns?|- A gun?

A gun from that museum of yours...

liberated from a captured U-boat|along with the code books, the captain's|teddy bear and what have you.

All very improper and unsigned for,|but I turned a blind eye.

But no reason why you should know,|a chap like you.

Mind if I check the coat?

While we're at it--

- You sure you don't mind?|- I'm beginning to.

You see my point, though,|don't you?

One day the Germans black us out|in the North Atlantic.

Next day, girlfriend|of crack code breaker disappears--

vanishes.

- Code breaker returns,|shiny new shooter goes missing.|- She's not my girlfriend.

Hmm? What is she, then?

We were-- I suppose the phrase is|''seeing each other''...

for about a month.

Is that what happened to you?

What?

Is Claire Romilly|what happened to you?

There was a concert.

I went on my own.

Oh, it's you.|You found my slipper.

Afterwards, Claire, Hester--|Miss Wallace, who shares the cottage--

and I, we came out together.

Next week was going to be Bach.

Oh, we must go.

Oh, I can't.|I'm on the night shift.

Oh, Hester. Poor you.

''Poor you,'' she said.|That's one of her phrases.

So, I asked her.

I say, I hope you don't think it|fresh of me, but should we go together?

Of course you did.|And, uh, after that?

After that?

I had the happiest month|of my whole life.

Not happiest. Something.

- You can! You can.|- I can't.

You can. Yes.

Ready? One, two, three,|four, fiive, six, seven, eight.

- Sorry.|- No, you can't.

- Claire!|- Aaron!

- May I?|- Do you mind?

No.

It's my favourite club.

- Mine too.|- Oh, yes, I'm sure.

How do you get the petrol coupons to go|zipping up and down to London?

Secret, darling.|I know a chap.

- No, but how?|- It's not what you think.

Do you have to know everything?

I don't know why you want me.|Let's get married before it stops.

- Tom, don't.|- I love you!

They say you shouldn't fall in love|in a war. You never know what's coming.

I love you.|I really love you.

No cottage.

- Is that code, darling?|- Yes.

- I want to see where you sleep.|- Landlady has rules.

So have I.|Hester's at home.

Oh.

I'll be quiet as a mouse.|Promise.

Shh. Shh.

Sleep with her?

I'll take that as a yes.

And then you quarrelled?

Quarrelled? No.

Claire? Darling?

Sorry, darling.

Go back to sleep.

- What are you doing?|- I'm just looking through your things.

No photographs?

You've never given me|a photograph.

You're all secrets,|aren't you?

I've no secrets from you.|Please come back to bed.

What's this? What's the|entscheidungsproblem when it's at home?

That's just something|I was working on at Cambridge.

It's a-- It's a theoretical|machine that--

- Theoretical. So it doesn't exist?|- Please, come back to bed.

Well, this will do.|I want something of yours to keep.

Give it back.

- Why?|- Because it means nothing|to you and a lot to me.

- Aren't I clever enough, darling?|- Please, Claire!

No!

Give it back.|Give it back.

It's not funny, Claire!

Claire, I'm sorry.|Please forgive me.

I'm really, really sorry.

Claire--

She moved on.

Why won't you answer my letters?

Are you seeing someone else?

I'm always seeing someone else.

Yes.

She moved on.

Not right, Mr Jericho.

Can't quite put my fiinger on it...

but defiinitely not right.

Were you surprised when they told you|that Admiral Doenitz...

had changed the German Navy|weather code?

Any bells go off?

Germans were always nervous|about Enigma.

Well, the Germans are supposed|to think that Enigma's|an unbreakable system...

because it would take thousands of years|to go through every setting...

to fiind the one that turns|the code back into the plain text.

Next day, it's different again. Using|human beings, Enigma is safe forever...

but we don't use|human beings for that.

Do we...

Mr Jericho?

- No.|- No.

And that is the secret|inside the secret.

All they know thus far|is that the weather code|opened a crack in the system...

because somebody told them.

But what if somebody tells them|just how we do do it?

Your thinking machine.|Clackety-clack, day and night.

Programmed with a menu,|thanks to your big brain...

that reduces the odds|to just a few million to one...

till it locks on to|the winning combination.

There goes the war.

Oh.

I've got a little list.

You're on it.

Communists, foreign nationals...

geniuses just this side|of barking mad.

Altogether, a security nightmare.

But of all these names, Mr Jericho,|you are the only one...

who got himself f***ed into|a nervous breakdown by a missing blonde.

You live quietly from now on.

Where does one pee around here?

To the right.

Good night, Mrs Armstrong.

Talk to me!|What do you want to know?

Do you want to know about Shark?|Do you want to know about Shark?

Any secret. Ask me.|Ask me! I'll tell you!

Poor you. I really got|under your skin, didn't I?

Good morning.

- Good morning.|- You look tired, sir.

Morning!

- Have you heard the latest?|- No.

Utility knickers--|one Yank, and they're off.

Naughty, naughty.

- Came through the door for you.|- lf there is some other way

To prove that l love you

l swear l don'tnow how

Preserve my body and soul|into everlasting peace.

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